


Closure

by methlabs



Category: Red Dead Redemption
Genre: Attempted Sex, Dubcon Kissing, F/M, Guilt, Heavy Angst, Infidelity, Sort Of, i hate this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-17
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-08-24 23:52:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16650268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/methlabs/pseuds/methlabs
Summary: John has abandoned Abigail and their son. Abigail seeks solace in Javier's company, whether he likes it or not.





	Closure

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: i hate this ship especially because they had canon relations and i seriously just needed to get this out of my system.
> 
> edit, 18/11: i don't hate Abigail and please don't slut shame her in the comments, that is not my intention. i know she slept with most members of the gang and i've portrayed her in a negative light in this fic but there's never an excuse to call anyone a whore. comments like that will be deleted.

Javier was not John Marston.

He was attractive enough, and a good lay, Abigail knew, but she could never love him.

He just wasn't John.

And perhaps that was exactly what she needed.

Abigail found him sitting alone at his lean-to next to the campfire, guitar in his lap. She hesitated for a moment just out of his periphery, smoothing down her skirt and adjusting her bosom through her dress. If she was going to do this, she might as well look better than she felt.

Javier noticed her before she had made herself known, tilting his head back ever so slightly in acknowledgement. She stopped a few metres from him. They had barely spoken since her and John had declared themselves lovers, as if some new boundary had sprung up between them out of guilt over their past relations. God be damned if that meant anything now. John was gone, abandoning her and their son. _Her_ son, she supposed. But tonight, for the first time in months, Abigail's needs came first.

She cleared her throat, and he finally looked at her directly. "Abigail."

"Javier. Good evening?"

He laughed softly. "So far."

Abigail watched as he teased the guitar strings, fingers ghosting over the frets as he mimicked some chord progression, and she tried let her thoughts wander dangerously. "Any plans for tonight?"

Javier hesitated, relinquishing his instrument and setting it against a wooden crate nearby. He stared at nowhere in particular, obviously avoiding her gaze. "Not really. I was just going to have a cigar and go to bed, I guess."

"Right." She took a step toward him.

Javier stilled, and Abigail took the chance to admire his profile. He was certainly handsome. A part of her missed him and the nights they had spent together. Another part said she was a fool to not have fallen for him instead of that god damned John Marston. And the part of her that she had expected to scream guilt was silent.

It was far more than the push she needed. So instead, she jumped.

Javier was uncharacteristically stiff as Abigail knelt and kissed him, one hand threaded through his short ponytail. But he was only a man--god, did she know--and as she had expected, he started moving his lips loosely against hers. It wasn't long before she moved to straddle his lap, messily untying his hair as she pressed her tongue into his mouth. No boundaries were of any concern. Nothing was of concern to Abigail besides the growing warmth in her abdomen and the need to spite--to _forget_ about John. But as her hand slipped down to cup Javier's crotch, she felt his fingers wrap around her wrist. She let out an involuntary whine as he pulled away, looking up at him with confused yet sultry eyes.

"Abigail..."

"It doesn't have to be here, darlin'. We can go into town."

She tried to kiss his neck and he desperately choked back something half-Spanish and half-sob. She was caught off guard as he pushed her off his lap firmly, enough to send her onto her ass in the dirt. Javier stood abruptly, holding the back of his hand to his mouth, face painted with either disgust or shame or both.

"Buenas noches," he forced out, and stormed away from her. Abigail simply sat there for a moment before finally standing and dusting herself off.

She looked around, willing that it would be too late for anyone to witness her act and subsequent embarrassment, when she made eye contact with Hosea. He was sitting a ways from her, and she managed to see Javier say something to him in passing before disappearing into the tree line on the other side of camp, likely the last she'd see of him for the next few days. Hosea may have been far, but Abigail could make out the shining disappointment in his eyes as he stood and followed Javier.

In no moment before had Abigail hated herself more than now. But she was right about one thing, at least.

Javier certainly was not John Marston.


End file.
